


Wild Stories

by RussianWitch



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Crossdressing, Light Dom/sub, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Referenced anal, blink and you will miss it, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 06:56:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6894607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old photographs give Phil ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wild Stories

**Author's Note:**

> not beta'd

They are lazing around on the couch, going through a box of pictures a relative of one of the dancing girls who'd accompanied Steve around the US selling bonds send over. A lot of the pictures, Phil has seen before in history books or as part of exhibits, but to his delight and Steve's clear amusement there are some which haven't seen daylight in decades.

Phil is going through a stack of snapshots from what looks to be Steve's last tour around the US selling bonds before going overseas. Pictures from backstage clearly not meant for PR purposes judging by the state of undress of the girls and Steve's obviously fake smiles. Little windows into the past Phil would have loved to see for himself and hates Steve having to have lived through.

He almost misses the picture at first, eager to get to the end of the stack—but there is something about the composition of all the USO girls huddled together on a saggy bed that makes him look again. There is something subtly wrong about the person in the middle of the group: too big compared to the rest, broad shouldered and looking—Steve leans over his shoulder to see what made Phil tense up, and Phil can feel him blush crimson even before turning his head to look. The blush sets the tips of Steve's ears on fire and cascades all the way down disappearing under Steve's shirt.

"Steve?" He asks, reaching back to wrap and arm around Steve's waist. The picture must have been taken with Steve's permission, and yet Steve isn't meeting his eyes. "Would you believe me if I said I can explain?" The super soldier finally murmurs, slumping back against the couch back, cursing at Phil's raised eyebrow. "That's—that's—me." Steve sighs, rubbing his face.

Phil will never owe up to finding Steve's embarrassment cute, or hot, but there is something about the man blushing that he can't seem to resist. "We'd been stuck with each other for months, me and the girls, so we were friendly." That doesn't come as a surprise, Steve makes friends wherever he goes, can barely help himself when not spoiled for a fight. That doesn't explain the dress and make-up. "The girls had a chaperon, to keep everything proper. They practically got locked in their rooms when not performing or traveling, on a separate floor if they could manage it while I was stuck wherever they could shove me. Didn't belong with the handlers, and no one else was around except for the locals who kept away too when not trying to meet the girls." He grabs the picture out of Phil's hand to study it again. "They felt kind of sorry for me, so a few of the girls came up with cousin Marge who could come visit." And Steve had gone along with it—clothing and all.

"That wasn't—in the records." Phil murmurs feeling like the room is getting too hot, not that Steve makes a particularly attractive woman or a credible one for that matter there is something about the picture that keeps Phil looking at it again and again, thinking of all the things he can't see.

"I don't think anyone noticed, or—I don't think colonel Phillips would have liked getting that report." Steve's voice is tinted with relief. "Sorry—" He shrugs guiltily, and that finally manages to drag Phil's attention out of the gutter again. "For what?" He asks frowning in confusion, "It just—I can't help getting—ideas." Out of the two of them, it's Phil who should feel guilty anyway: it hadn't exactly been the best time for Steve, and Phil is perving about it.

"Phil?"Now Steve is the one frowning, and Phil has to fight the urge to look away because any minute now Steve will connect the dots and—"You _like_ the idea?" He asks incredulously and Phil elbows him in the gut preemptively, only to realize he's just kicked an overgrown puppy who hadn't even thought of giving him shit about his weird fantasy. Phil keeps forgetting that while Steve is perfectly willing to _do_ it, Steve still has trouble actually _talking_ about it. "Sorry, yes, I like parts of the idea—your legs—" He squeezes Steve's thigh, hoping he won't have to explain. Steve is, after all, very much aware that Phil really likes his legs. "You know what, forget it! Just a random thought really." It isn't like Phil is going to make Steve do anything he objects to, doesn't expect to get dragged back against Steve's chest. "I was just asking, which doesn't mean I'd wear a dress." The blonde huffs in Phil's ear. "Just curious what got you bothered." Steve palms his crotch, leaving Phil no way to protest that _something_ did get him going. "It's just a passing thought!" He tries not to moan when Steve rubs lightly.

"Tell me!" Steve purrs, nipping at his ear.

"I don't want you to get it into your have that you have to do anything just because I'd get off on it." Phil tries to squirm away but ends up with Steve on top of him rubbing against his body like an overly possessive cat. "I like doing things because they get you off." He reminds Phil with a grin, grinding their crotches together teasingly. "Now tell me what you were thinking!" Phil glares ignoring the blush he can't suppress when his dick jumps at Steve's 'command voice'. "Or, do I have to make you?" The captain growls, hooking two fingers in the collar of Phil's shirt ripping the fabric effortlessly all the way down. "I liked that shirt!" He complains, fighting to show just how close Steve has him to coming with that little stunt. "Out with it, soldier!" Steve prompts again nipping a trail down Phil's throat and chest, tugging at the fur covering it with his teeth until Phil is cursing out loud and squirming hard enough to buck them off the couch.

Sitting up on Steve's chest, Phil doesn't waste time catching both of the blonde's hands and pinning them to the floor. "Don't move, or I stop talking." He warns, pleased to feel Steve shiver at the order. Shrugging off the remains of his shirt Phil sits back, settling his ass against the root of Steve's dick with a contented moan. Running his hands over his body, Phil rakes his fingers through the thick mat of hair covering his torso, flicking his nipples enjoying Steve's hungry stare. "I was thinking about you, not dressed up or anything—just wearing stockings, maybe a garter belt and matching panties." He snags the edge of Steve's shirt as he talks, dragging it up until it gets trapped around Steve's shoulders and neck, covering his lover's face.

Without Steve's eyes on him, spinning a fantasy is easier. "I'd love to come home to you coming out of the shower, stockings and panties laid out on the bed so I can help you put them on." He knows Steve wants to protest the blindfold, but Phil kisses him through the cotton sucking and licking until the fabric is soaking wet between them. "You'd order me to help you dress before I can get a word out." He sprawls on Steve's chest, grinding their crotches together slowly. "I'd get to towel you off, make sure you're all dry before pushing you down on the bed. The stockings would be silk: delicate and slick, do you remember how they felt?" The moan from under the shirt makes Phil grin. "I'd put them on you slowly, so we can both enjoy every inch of the cool fabric caressing your skin—" Whatever reservations Steve might have had, the way he moans assures Phil he isn't crossing any lines. "Get you to sit up to fasten the garter belt, make you stand up to fasten it to the stockings properly—snap the elastic against your ass and thighs to make you squirm." He reaches down to fiddle with the buttons of Steve's jeans as he talks, working the buttons out of their holes one by one. "You'd be so hard, I'd have to be careful putting the panties on you! Scratchy lace that will strain to keep your dick and balls contained and tickle your asshole."

Steve moans and Phil has to brace himself to keep his seat. "What would you do to me?" Steve demands arching his back and straining to keep from reaching out and touching. "I'd touch you—everywhere. Spread your legs wide, taste you through the silk: I'd have to be careful not to tear through it working my way up your leg." Steve groans and pants encouraging Phil to keep going. "I'd tease along the edge of the stockings until I know _exactly_ what the difference is between tasting your skin through the silk and without. Mark your inner thighs with my teeth until the lace holding your dick is soaked—"   

"Would you fuck me?" Steve blurts urgently, arching into Phil's hands, and for an instant, he isn't sure where the difference between reality and fantasy is, not sure if Steve knows either. Janking on the tangled fabric, Phil frees Steve from the makeshift blindfold, slotting their mouths together in a sloppy kiss. "I'd fuck you so hard!" Phil assures Steve coming up for breath, before returning to fucking his lover's mouth with his tongue. "I wouldn't even take your panties off, would just slide them aside—and push right in _hard_." Steve groans his approval, whining when Phil finally manages to free both of them from their jeans. "Fuck you on your back, your lovely legs in the air, but I wouldn't come in your hot ass." Phil wraps his hand around both of their dicks, squeezing them together slippery and wet with pre-come already. "I'd pull out, and put you on your hands and knees—fuck you from behind." Steve fucks up into his hand with enough force that Phil can barely hold on and has to wrap his other hand around them; make a nice tight tunnel for them both to fuck into. "You'll be able to see yourself in that big mirror you insisted on in the bedroom. Watch me come in your tight ass, watch yourself come in your pretty panties."

"Fuck! Phil!" Steve arches up, mouth falling open in a needy moan, eyes squeezed shut as he chases release. "Would you make me look?" He gasps, forgetting to restrain himself and reaching for Phil, dragging him down for a kiss and trapping Phil's hands and their dicks between their heaving bodies. "Would you want me to?" Phil forces out, running out of breath, his brain to mouth filter going up in flames. "I'd make you look: grab you by the hair and force your head back so you have no choice but to watch yourself get fucked." He twists his hands, squeezing tighter. "Fuck you so hard, you'd cry," Phil growls, and an animalistic joy takes possession of him as Steve comes all over them with a tortured sob, and Phil can't help but follow.

He slumps on Steve's chest arms aching and head spinning as aftershocks rake his body. When his brain comes online again, Steve is stroking his back lazily. He raises himself on his elbows ignoring Steve's grunt of protest to nuzzle at Steve's throat. "I'd love for you to fuck me too, you know." He slurs, "Want to rip your dirty panties off, and have you fuck me blind still wearing stockings." He murmurs licking the sweat off Steve's skin.

Steve's dick stirs between them, and Phil has to smother a grin. He'd be jealous of Steve's stamina, but not everyone can be a super soldier. "You can't stay stuff like that, Phil!" Steve complains kneading Phil's ass and rocking them together slowly. He reaches down, wrapping his hand around his lover's dick again jerking the still oversensitive flesh roughly until Steve comes again with a bitten off yowl. "You can take it, soldier." He huffs, riding out Steve's pleasure. "In fact—," He keeps stroking Steve even as he tries to protest. "—I think I want to make you come a few more times." Phil decides, smiling when the super soldier moans and drags him up for another messy kiss.

 


End file.
